


these sighs they fall like comets

by hidley



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: First Kiss, Flirting, Hide and Seek, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Purring, Resolved Romantic Tension, Romance, Snusmumriken | Snufkin Has Paws and a Tail, Suggestive, a bit of crying, these two are very emotional about each other, this was quite cathartic to write actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26449621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidley/pseuds/hidley
Summary: An ache blooms in him then, stronger than anything else he’s ever felt. His skin tightens and his mind fills to the brim with only one thought:Please. Catch me.——Snufkin agrees to a game of hide and seek, for old time’s sake. It turns out to be a lot more stressful than he remembered.
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin
Comments: 20
Kudos: 122





	these sighs they fall like comets

It begins just as a game; one they’d all played hundreds of times as children but had neglected once they’d all become more interested in exploring and adventuring and generally feeling as though they were much too mature and important for running round in the woods playing hide and seek.

Little My had suggested it, with a gleam in her eye that Snufkin didn’t entirely trust. However, even he could not resist the pull of such nostalgia to break up routine a bit. Snorkmaiden had leapt at the idea, offering at once to be the first to count.

“It’s the best part!” she insists.

They scatter, Moomintroll into some bushes that envelop him within their leaves, Sniff behind a very narrow tree, Little My clambering up the same tree into the canopy above and Snufkin jogging over to a secret space between two mossy boulders he remembered from a previous escapade.

He lies down on his belly, his toes and tail tucked in. From his hiding place he has a clear view of Snorkmaiden and the bushes where Moomin disappeared into.

Snufkin’s eyes catch something startlingly white against the muddy ground and lets out a loud, high whistle.

Immediately, the tail twitches and Moomin’s paw shoots out, pulling it out of sight. Snufkin’s mouth curls as he settles down into the leaves again.

Within minutes, Snorkmaiden has scared Sniff into revealing himself, pulled Little My down from the tree by her dress and puzzled her way over to Snufkin’s boulder, tagging him on the shoulder with a cheer.

But she searches for nearly a quarter of an hour before finally she spins round and demands: “Where did Moomin go?”

Snufkin blinks, as the question was directed only at him. “I don’t know.”

“Rubbish!” Snorkmaiden says. “Moomin could run away to the moon and you’d be the first to know about it.”

“I don’t! He’s always been the best at this game.”

“Oh, give it a rest will you?” Little My rolls her eyes. “He can’t HEAR you.”

Snufkin’s face burns and he huffs. “Well! Its still true.”

Little My sticks out her tongue at him and he has to restrain himself from doing the same, but the silliness isn’t lost on him and he knows his expression must be as soft as down feathers.

Meanwhile, Snorkmaiden narrows her eyes at Snufkin, waiting.

A long moment passes before his eyes blink over to the bushes and Snorkmaiden’s face clears triumphantly.

“Ah ha!” She strides over and plunges her paw into the hedge and Moomin lets out a loud laugh as he is hauled up by his scruff. His face is flushed and creased with mirth.

“You found me!”

“Yes, well! I needed help.”

“I didn’t tell her anything!” Snufkin exclaims.

Moomin laughs again and his gaze sits on him, heavy and fond. “I know, Snuf.”

The next game, Snufkin and Moomin run off in the same direction.

“I hope you’re not planning on mooching off my success,” Moomin teases.

“Why, how could you think such a thing,” Snufkin says, holding a paw to his chest. “My intentions are entirely honourable.”

Moomin hums, narrowing his eyes before letting a giggle loose, the sound trickling through Snufkin like chocolate. He allows himself to stare a little, tail sweeping back and forth against the forest floor.  
  
He’s still staring when Moomintroll takes his paw. 

“You can hide with me if you want,” he says, softer.

Snufkin’s stomach dips and he cannot suppress a smile. “And have your fancy tail give us away? I think not.”

“You think it’s fancy?” Moomin comments at once, making Snufkin bend over himself laughing.

Moomin hushes him, still giggling, and pulls him down behind a bush just as Little My shouts: “Ready or not!”

“Shush, you heathen!” He shakes Snufkin and lowers his voice right into his ear. “You’re gonna get us caught!”

But Snufkin cannot quell the joyful hysteria in his chest and resorts to pressing his face against his friend’s shoulder, still shaking.

Moomin moves his snout over his hair and the light nuzzle that might have otherwise stolen his breath sends warm sparks down his neck.

He still isn’t quite brave enough to nuzzle back.

“I think she’s heading towards Sniff,” Moomin rumbles, and Snufkin can feel it right through him. Something deep and delicious pulses through him and he takes a moment just to savour it.

He tilts his head and feels Moomin’s fur tickle his mouth.

“Oh, she’s got him! I didn’t see where Snorkmaiden went...”

It would be so easy, to press his lips there. The back of Moomin’s neck. The troll might never even feel it.

“And she’s, ah. She’s gone down the other path now.”

He smelt incredible. More earthy than the woods around them. Snufkin knew the soap the Moomin’s kept in their outhouse. He’d even borrowed it, once.

“And I-its probably safe t-to—“

He couldn’t get enough of himself for days.

“Snufkin?”

The mumrik’s eyes open, and he registers the position he is in with a dull dread.

His tail has wrapped itself so thoroughly around Moomin’s that they make one multi-toned mess that lies trapped between them, held fast by Snufkin’s body. Which is plastered along Moomin’s back.

He is also purring louder than he could remember doing in years.

There wasn’t much to be done, for a while. Snufkin can’t think through his rising panic enough to move away, and Moomin just sits there, eyes hidden above where Snufkin cannot see.

“Sorry,” Snufkin eventually says. He hasn’t stopped purring.

“It’s okay,” Moomin whispers back. “She can’t hear you.”

Snufkin tries to say something else, but his mouth is as dry as old moss. He gathers the nerve to look up and meets Moomin’s eyes, which are half lidded and curious.

He swallows, helpless to stop his gaze dropping to the troll’s snout, inches from his.

Snufkin hears a breath hitch in Moomin’s throat and retreats, back into his own space. For a moment, Moomin follows, but then seems to catch himself.

They sit in their shared silence until Little My springs up from behind the bush and lands on their heads.

“Found you!” she cackles. “I saw Moomin’s ears first so he’s next to count!”

“Those fancy ears,” Snufkin mutters, and Moomin beams at him.

The interaction leaves Snufkin feeling rather lightheaded. His friends gather around him discussing the rules of the new game, and he can do nothing but stand there smiling in a way that he suspects makes him look quite foolish.

He glances up at Moomin several times, and each time the troll is gazing back. 

They’d done this kind of thing before, the end of last summer before the cold came in. Moomin had always been respectful of his friend’s physical boundaries, but more and more Snufkin would find his paw held, his back touched, his temples nuzzled. It always left a sweeping high coursing through him and he wasn’t so self suppressed to not know why.

But long ago he had resigned himself to those feelings being unrequited, and the fact that these small interactions could suggest otherwise was perhaps the most frightening thing that had ever happened to him.

He jumps as Little My shrieks her case that Moomin should be the next to count. The idea plucks something fearful in him that he can’t identify. 

“Oh, for goodness sake! I’m happy to count! I don’t know why you’re yelling!” 

“Because it’s been a while since I have!” Little My grins, before leaping down from Snorkmaiden’s shoulders. “Now close your eyes!” 

Moomin throws Snufkin one last devastating little smile, covers his eyes and starts to count. 

Everyone darts off in different directions. There were becoming fewer and fewer places for them to hide and Snufkin hunts around further and further away from their starting point. He glances over trees and rose bushes with a critical eye, wanting to find somewhere perfect. 

At last he finds a large oak tree that has rotted away on the inside and thus housed a perfect Snufkin-sized alcove within its trunk. He almost doesn’t see it, as young conifers conceal the narrow entrance almost completely. 

Keeping an ear pricked for pursuers, Snufkin crawls into the space, gently brushing woodlice aside to where he wouldn’t step on them. He stands up straight and presses flat against the inside, cushioned by mosses and soft, heady fibre. 

Snufkin takes a moment to make himself comfortable, and waits. 

The forest around him is muted by the walls of his little hovel and the wind passes by without so much as ruffling his hair. His heart slows and he closes his eyes, feeling the weight of nature all around him. 

A deep contentment bubbles up inside his stomach, rising and enveloping his chest, neck, the tips of his ears. 

In the distance, he hears a cry and laughter. He purrs. 

The minutes pass slowly and he starts to doze off. His paws tickle with curious antennae and he turns his palm and lets the insects explore the inside of his wrist.

 _Perhaps Moomin lost my trail_ , he thinks. _Perhaps I should be lost here forever._

A branch snaps and he stiffens. The woodlice retreat into the walls of the tree and Snufkin dares a peek outside. 

Moomin is a stone throw away, focus split between the detritus on the forest floor and every shape and movement in the trees around him. He bends down to brush over a snapped twig, some displaced ferns, and approaches closer to where Snufkin hides, ears twitching with concentration. 

_Oh my_ , the mumrik thinks, dreamily. _He’s very good at this game._

Moomin creeps closer, until he is right up against the tree. Snufkin loses sight of him as he circles it, but can hear him sniffing the air. Confident he smells only of grass and sea salt, Snufkin remains still, waiting for his friend to move on.  
  
But Moomin lingers, coming round the other side again with a frown.   
  
Snufkin’s heart pounds and his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he can think better of it. 

Moomin’s ears prick at once, an expression passing over his features that Snufkin can’t quite catch. 

Snufkin closes his eyes, mouth open as he breathes in slow. Warmth mixes with a strange fear low in his gut. It smoulders there like a cave of moths, a feeling he is sure he could lose himself in. 

At last, Moomin moves away, pacing off behind the tree without a word. 

Snufkin sighs, and allows himself to shift. His back is damp and he should be giving the woodlice back their home by now.

With care, he slips back out of the gap and stretches, keeping his eyes open and alert. 

A close call. Snufkin can’t help but feel triumphant, as well as a little disappointed. 

He hears a rustle behind him and freezes. He can’t believe it, but it dawns in him that he has been duped, and his heart plummets to his shoes as he turns around.

They lock eyes and for a single second, Snufkin feels a fear so great that his chest locks like a steel chest. He doesn’t think, just turns on his heel and runs.

The action does nothing to deter the troll, and Snufkin can hear Moomin’s soft paws thundering along behind him. The lock twists and he starts to sprint, sweat clinging to his tunic and his heart hammering.

Branches dive down to snare his cheeks and roots rise up to entangle him but Snufkin lives in these woods. He plays and eats and tells stories underneath these trees and knows them like Moomin knows the staircase to his own bedroom. They will not slow him down.

An absurd humour climbs his throat and he barks a laugh, panic ebbing in his gut like the tide. Moomintroll still pursues him and he doesn’t have much time. He darts off to the side, weaving through birch trees like mist and laughter surges up once more. He hears a surprised grunt and a scuffle behind him as Moomin’s larger form bashes into trunks and bushes, but still Snufkin runs, once again on a clear path and Moomintroll loses no ground.

 _Remarkable, this troll_ , Snufkin thinks, wildly.

An ache blooms in him then, stronger than anything else he’s ever felt. His skin tightens and his mind fills to the brim with only one thought:

_Please. Catch me._

Before he can even consider that revelation, it’s all over.

His wrist is snatched, and he stumbles as he is twirled around and thrown against a peeling birch tree.

His back hits the wood and arches, his eyes wide as he stares up at Moomin, who pants above him with an expression cracked open and a question burning in his eyes.

“Please, Snufkin. May I—“

Snufkin gasps his assent, the ache in him cresting, wild and lovely, as he surges forward and kisses Moomintroll’s open mouth.

Moomin’s paws curl into his hair at once, dragging him in.

Pleasure burns through Snufkin like dynamite, and he surrenders fully, grabs whatever parts of Moomintroll he can reach and twists, helpless in the face of finally, _finally,_ getting everything he wants. 

He tilts his head and Moomin groans at the change. Snufkin claws at his soft shoulders and startles at the cry it emits. He gasps, pulling away. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—“

Moomin silences him, pushing his body against his, making the mumrik writhe but with no where to go, the compulsion detonates within him and he cries out, every inch of him aflame. 

Paws push up against his tunic and the first touch of Moomin’s fur on his bare skin brings with it rapture previously unknown to either of them. Snufkin wants more at once but Moomin keeps his touch low, stroking the dips at the base of his spine and running his thumbs over the fur on his belly. 

Snufkin arches, more deliberately, and breaks their kiss.   
  
“I won’t break,” he promises.   
  
Moomin’s eyes somehow convey both disbelief and resolve as he dips his snout down, down to where Snufkin’s neck meets his tunic and presses a soft kiss there. Snufkin falls back against the wood of the tree and tries to tempt the troll’s wandering paws back to where he wants them. 

The sweetness of the kiss has him conflicted, however, and he begins to feel quite embarrassed at his display. 

“It isn’t because I don’t want to,” Snufkin shivers at the rumble of Moomin’s voice. “You’re so special. I need a moment just to believe you want this.” 

“Of course I do,” Snufkin breathes against Moomin’s ear. “Sometimes I feel as though I’ll die from it.”

Moomin chuckles, his breath tickling over Snufkin’s skin. “You’re so full of passion for everything. I should have known this would be no different.” 

“This is important.” Snufkin swallows. “It might be the most important.” 

The troll pulls back, and their gazes slide back to one another.

“It’s not all that, surely,” Moomin says, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t want to deprive the ocean of your acclaim. Or the birds. Or the rain.” 

“You fit so well among them,” Snufkin says. “Moomintroll, I haven’t the courage to say it.”

”Well, I do.” Moomin’s gaze softens. “I love you, Snufkin.” 

The words hold in the air for merely a moment before Snufkin allows them to settle within him. 

The tears are quick after that. 

“Oh!” Moomin moves to envelop his love in his arms, paws tilting his face up to meet his. “Oh, my dear.” 

“Do you mean it?” Snufkin gasps wetly, eyes clenched shut and mouth barely moving. “Do you swear?” 

“Snufkin.” Moomin stares down at him, shattered. “Snufkin, you must know that I do. You must know how I’ve longed to say it. How could you not?”   
  
Snufkin shakes his head, unable to catch his breath. 

“It’s okay,” Moomin soothes, stroking his hair. “My dear. My love. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realised.” 

Tremors flood through him like a chill, and Moomin moves him closer until there’s barely anything left of him that isn’t covered in wisps of white fur. 

The forest that surrounds them is still, the only sounds the light rustle of the wind and the birds, twittering happily in their nests. Snufkin can still hear them through the roaring in his ears. 

When he calms down, the first thing he notes is that today has been the best day of his entire life. 

The second is that they are still in the middle of a game. 

He choked on a laugh, face still pressed against Moomin’s chest. The troll twitches, poking him with his snout. 

“What?” he asks, and Snufkin can hear that wonderful smile in his voice.

Snufkin looks up at him, eyes still a bit wet and cheeks aching. “I guess this means I’m counting next.”

Moomin blinks, genuinely thrown, before he tips his head back and cackles in a way so reminiscent of Little My, Snufkin can’t help but delight in it, clutching Moomin as he joins in his laughter. 

“Yes! I suppose it does!” Moomin nuzzles his face and Snufkin does his best to return it with his pointy nose. “Although if I’m honest, I imagine they are playing without us by now.” 

Snufkin tilts his head “What makes you say that?” 

“Er, well,” Moomin scratches an ear. “I might have saved you for last. Just in case.” 

“Just in case?” Snufkin gasps. “Moomintroll, was this a _premeditated_ dalliance?”

Moomin lets out a shriek, pressing his paws against Snufkin’s laughing mouth. 

“No! Certainly not! I would never!”   
  
“Here’s me thinking we were both just love struck fools,” Snufkin sighs. “And the truth is I was merely a conquest the whole time.” 

“You were _not_!” 

“Ah,” Snufkin smirks. “What a shame. I rather liked the sound of that.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

“And you love me,” Snufkin says, before he loses his nerve. “So I hear.” 

“Yes. I do. Helplessly.”   
  
“Horribly.”

“Its hardly horrible.”

”Regrettably.”

“Endlessly.” Moomin fixes him with a hard stare. “Perfectly.” 

“Nothing is truly perfect.”

”This is. Right now.” 

Snufkin sighs and kisses him. “Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll concede that.” 

Arms wrap around him and Snufkin relishes in the purr that rumbles in his chest, knocking away the last of his grief.

”What now?” he asks. 

“Well,” Moomin nudges him gently and Snufkin raises an eyebrow as his back once again presses against the birch tree. “They won’t come looking for us.” 

”Oh, you don’t know that,” Snufkin counters, whilst his fingers stroke round the back of Moomin’s ears. “They could be worried.” 

“Let them worry,” Moomin murmurs before catching Snufkin’s smiling mouth with his. 

**Author's Note:**

> and so they made out in the woods for all eternity. Good for them. 
> 
> Snufkin to me seems like the kind of person to get love confused with fear, and the visual of him being physically confronted only to realise that it’s all too easy to give in to what you want when it asks so _nicely_ has been floating around in my mind ever since reading boorishbint’s “Gently Rise, Softly Call” when it’s implied they have their first kiss when Moomin catches him against a tree during a game. 
> 
> Let’s just say it stayed with me. Became an entire fic. Or something. 
> 
> Also this flat out wouldn’t exist if not for hraundrac, who writes WONDERFULLY himself and has been the most incredible support anyone could ask for. 
> 
> Please, please drop a comment if you have time! They make my day 💛


End file.
